


Mr. Clean

by TheRedWulf



Series: Roosa One Shots [12]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballerina, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Modern Era, Roosa - Freeform, Roose Bolton is His Own Warning, Slice of Life, Threats of Violence, meet cute, threats of murder, threats of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23303746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which the best ‘clean up’ man in the business finds himself in a unique situation...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Roose Bolton & Sansa Stark, Roose Bolton/Sansa Stark
Series: Roosa One Shots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469906
Comments: 53
Kudos: 150





	Mr. Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece for the 1,000 Words or less challenge! Working with Roose and Sansa, and an idea that I already know I will be expanding into a full length fic in some form or another. Roose in this occupation just has a lot of promise and it is stuck in my head! 
> 
> This piece does have some Joffrey in it, so keep in mind he is his own warning. Roose and Sansa will be OOC, but Joffrey...well, he's just Joffrey.
> 
> Again, this is a new series where I challenge myself (and limit myself) to write 1,000 word or less vignettes. This will include multiple pairings, universes etc, and allow me to write little scene drabbles as they come to mind. From these (if a specific piece is very well liked) I can develop longer one shots or multi-chaps, but really I want to challenge myself to stick to short, poignant scenes, meet cutes, slices of life, etc.
> 
> I will do my best to create photo-sets for each vignette, so hopefully you enjoy those too.

“You’re late” Joffrey hissed, slamming the whiskey glass onto the tabletop. 

“I always arrive precisely when I mean to,” Roose replied flatly, not giving the little prick the satisfaction of an apology. The Lannister-Baratheon heir had already called him thirteen times, interrupting Roose's last clean up job and making himself a thorn in his side. 

“Then you won’t complain if I pay you late” Joffrey all but screamed. 

“In that case, I bid you good evening” he turned back towards the doors. 

“Wait!” Joffrey called out and Roose looked back to see him walking closer. “You’re the only one that can do this.” 

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?” Roose tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks, the cool metal of the pistol on his hip brushing his inner wrist, an odd yet soothing action. 

“Clean up my little problem” Joffrey replied cryptically. 

“You have goons, have them handle it” Roose countered. 

“That’s part of my problem” Joffrey motioned for him to follow and Roose did so with caution, walking behind him to the double doors at the far end of the room. The sight that greeted him once they opened surprised even him. 

Everyone in Westeros knew that Joffrey had been trying to court the current Prima Ballerina in King’s Landing, Sansa Stark. From what little Roose had heard through his channels, it wasn’t going the way that Joffrey would have liked. Now it seemed the situation was much worse. 

On the floor in a pool of his own blood lay the large body of Sandor Clegane--the Hound, Joffrey’s big, bad bodyguard. Beside him, sobbing was the slender form of Sansa Stark, her porcelain arms doing their best to hold what must have been Sandor’s jacket around her torn dress. 

“Who shot him?” Roose asked. 

“I did,” Joffrey admitted. 

“How many times?” 

“Four? Five maybe, I don’t fucking remember” he spat. 

“Four” Sansa said with quiet fury, raising her eyes to glare at the golden boy. If looks could kill, Joffrey would be a pile of ashes on the persian rug, it was clear she hated him with every fiber of her being. “You kidnapped me! You were going to rape me and he stopped you--you’re a monster!” 

Roose took in the scene, piecing together what must have happened and why the bodyguard’s jacket was on her shoulders--and not soaked in blood. She wore a bright sort of sundress beneath, though it was nothing but rags now and her hair and makeup were a mess. 

“Whatever he’s paying you” Sansa looked to Roose then and he watched her intently. “I will double it if you get me out of here.” 

“Shut up, you little--” 

“Please” she pleaded. “I just want the police.” 

Joffrey scoffed, laughing at her pleas, “Get rid of them both, Bolton. I’ll make it well worth your effort.” 

Roose shook his head, “I am a clean up man, not an assassin.” 

“What’s the difference? She is the mess, clean _her_ up!”

“I am not a mess to be cleaned up! You son of a--” Sansa argued, her fighting spirit undaunted by the chaos around her. She was strong, he’d give her that much. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Joffrey cut her off and she stumbled to her feet, putting her arms through the bodyguard’s suit jacket. “Get rid of her, Bolton!” Joffrey was so focused on Roose that he didn’t see Sansa discovering the cell phone in the pocket of Sandor’s jacket. She looked at him with wide eyes and Roose gave her a barely perceptible nod, an instant later she was dialing the three numbers that would bring this entire world down around Joffrey. 

“Yes, please help me. I've been kidnapped and there’s been a shooting” Sansa said with a shaky voice.

“No!” Joffrey lunged for her but Roose was faster, grabbing the back of his shirt. “Let me go Bolton! I will ruin you, tell the cops that you’re a clean up man.”

“Go ahead,” Roose smirked. “Ruin me. I will take every member of your family with me, and you know they won’t take kindly to that.” The boy paled as Sansa hung up the phone. 

“Thank you” she whispered as she sank back to her knees beside Sandor. 

It didn’t take long for the police to show up and the shit show began. Roose did his best to stick to the wings of the chaos--it wouldn’t do for him to be caught. When the opportunity presented itself, he gave one last look at the beauty of Sansa Stark and slipped into the darkness. 

Sansa stepped out into the evening air, a chill skating across her skin. She didn’t realize how cold it had gotten while she was sitting at Sandor’s bedside, talking to the man that had somehow survived four gunshot wounds to the chest. Gruff and aloof as he was, she found his company comforting after all they had endured together. When he was healed, and the legal trials were over, Sandor would begin work as her personal bodyguard. He’d protected her once already, she trusted him to do so every day. 

She was rubbing her hands over her bare arms, looking around the parking lot for her car when a leather jacket settled on her shoulders. She gasped, whirling to face the man behind her—

“You” she exhaled in relief. 

“Good evening, Miss. Stark” the deep voice of the mysterious Roose Bolton soothed her nerves. “I trust you’re well?”

“Healing, yes” she nodded. “I didn’t get a chance to repay you, for you help…” 

“There is no need to repay me” Roose assured her. He was a handsome man, if older than her usual type. She had thought him imposing when he appeared at the Lannister mansion, but here at the hospital he seemed softer somehow.

“Still” she smiled, pulling his jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Perhaps I can buy you dinner? As a thank you, of course...” 

“Dinner” he repeated with a smirk. “Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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